Once A Slave
by Ambriell
Summary: Three years on the run alone, six more in the company of Hawke and the most unlikely of friends, Fenris has made a life for himself in Kirkwall. But the knowledge that he possibly has family left behind in Tevinter proves too great a temptation to ignore. Will seeking his sister prove to be a fatal mistake? Or has his former master Danarius finally given up, as it seems he has?
1. Chapter 1

Before setting it aside, Fenris carefully refolded Varania's latest letter for what seemed like the hundredth time. A true enough estimate if one were to judge by the faded creases growing along the edges of the parchment from excessive handling.

He glanced at it askew, hesitating for all of five seconds before picking it back up again.

Opening it, he began to trace his finger along the finely penned words. Words written by his sister. His heart gave the tiniest flutter as he started to read the note again.

She had agreed to come to Kirkwall. To come see him.

It had taken her some convincing and extraordinary effort on his part for his early communication to even reach her but now it was all coming together. Varania had finally promised to come. His chest begun to feel tight and he concluded he must be nervous...and something else. Eager? This anticipation was an entirely new feeling and he couldn't decide if he hated it or liked it. A strange feeling indeed.

He frowned and with a heavy sigh, folded the thick paper again, carefully, before placing it inside the book on his desk. As an escaped slave and runaway, he had little possessions to his name and what he owned and treasured most lay upon this table.

The large book had been a gift to him, the first ever that he could remember receiving. When Garrett Hawke had handed it to him, he'd been embarrassed to admit he couldn't read but, ever patient, ever kind, Hawke just smiled and offered to teach him. By now Fenris knew the work of Shartan almost by heart but looking at the book tonight...made him feel a twinge of guilt.

He hadn't told Hawke that he'd looked into the matter of finding his sister, much less that he'd made contact with her. As far as Hawke knew, Fenris had put the matter behind him after he'd expressed that there was no point in meeting a "supposed" sister.

But the knowledge that he could have a family, someone who _knew_ him, the real him, from before he was branded with his lyrium markings, had left a burning hollow in the pit of his stomach that he could not extinguish, nor forget.

Fenris pushed the book a little further away from him, turning from it to lift a bottle of wine to his lips. It was no Agreggio Pavali, but it would do in a pinch. He gave the drink a half smirk, remembering Hawke's remark after he'd thrown one of the expensive bottles at the wall of his borrowed mansion. Decorating, he'd called it.

The guilt pinged inside him again.

He hadn't really...hidden...what he'd done from Hawke so much as he felt the man didn't deserve to be burdened with more of his personal problems. He already owed Hawke everything and besides all of that...being near him for any length of time more than necessary was too painful now.

Still, it wasn't fair to keep such knowledge from him. He imagined Hawke would feel disappointed and despite all that had passed between them, Fenris couldn't bear to give Hawke another reason to think less of him.

Setting down the bottle, he told himself decisively that he would tell Hawke everything, as soon as he heard from Aveline. The guardswoman had sworn to keep watch for Varania's ship, to report on any other passengers and to see where Varania headed after she docked at port, all to make sure it wasn't a trap.

But still...Danarius had to know about Varania. He knew his former master all too well to think otherwise. If the magister was serious about recapturing him, he very well might try to use her. She would be too tempting a target to leave alone.

The thought caused his spine to stiffen. He might have put Varania in danger with this journey, despite her assurances that she was safe. She'd told him specifically that no men had ever come to question her and no one bothered her for much anything except to ask her to mend their clothes. But what if…

"You're being paranoid," he said aloud to himself as he closed his eyes to rub them and an uncomfortable itch seemed to grow in between his shoulder blades, the kind you feel when you think you're being watched. Of course when he turned, there was only darkness. The candlelight didn't stretch that far. He tried to stamp down on the feeling but the sensation lingered. It always did after his mind unwillingly drifted towards Danarius.

His fingers itched to reach inside the small wooden box nearby that contained his sister's other letters, but he resisted. He knew them all by heart anyway. Instead, he grabbed the wine to swirl what remaining liquid was inside as he brooded on the situation. His best course was to ask Hawke to accompany him when he met Varania. But would he come?

Hawke had never pressed him about their night together three years ago and while Fenris had expected anger and resentment after he told Hawke he couldn't be with him, he got nothing of the sort. In fact, whenever he chanced a glance at Hawke and their eyes met, Hawke would just flash the kind quirky smile he seemed to reserve only for him.

But Fenris knew he was hopeless when it came to reading other's good intentions or feelings. So how did Hawke truly feel about him? Fenris knew what he would feel if the roles had been reversed...

He gripped the wine bottle hard before taking another draft. At the sudden torrent of several differing emotions, his markings flickered with power and he had to release the wine, lest his hand phase through it and re-solidify to shatter it.

He idly reached over to pick up the hand drawn calendar marking the approximate arrival of Varania's ship. At least paper wouldn't create quite the mess that the alcohol would if he phased through it. Not that anyone looking around the mansion would notice one mess from the next, if he was being honest.

_Soon. It had to be very soon_, he mused, counting the days. He should get news of her really by tomorrow, or the next day at the latest.

It was then that a steady knock came from the front of the mansion and Fenris let the paper slip. It could be Aveline.

Fenris felt a smile emerge at the thought as he walked to the door. The guardswoman had been patient with his curt demands thus far and he decided he should probably thank her. He forgot to do that, sometimes.

Another series of knocking began, more hesitantly than before and Fenris turned the handle to reveal an elf girl at the threshold, her hand still raised. She let it fall slowly as her eyes met his. She was not a stark beauty but pleasantly pretty, with hair a lush orange and eyes that looked a stormy gray…almost the same color as his.

"It really is you," she said. Her voice was quiet, almost subdued.

"Varania…?" Her name left his as a whisper. "I...I remember you," his voice grew a little stronger, becoming more confident as he spoke the words. Because they were _true_. Looking at her now, and _here_, a small memory had emerged. Still marveling at the long distant past her presence had revealed, his tone turned wistful. "We played in our Master's courtyard while Mother worked. You called me…"

Varania took a small step back and looked away from him.

"Leto…. That's your name."

Fenris watched her retreat and he tilted his head, confused.

"What's wrong? Why are you so…" he trailed off as she took more steps back, refusing to look at him. He instinctively followed her, worried he'd upset her. Maybe the sight of him with his infused lyrium had intimidated her as they had so many others. He wanted to tell her not to be afraid but before he could speak, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

Uniformed Tevinter soldiers. More than two dozen of them took position beside the alley of the mansion, flanking both sides. Their swords were drawn but they made no move forward, standing at attention as if waiting for a command.

Fenris felt his lip curl viciously and he reached behind him only to grasp at air.

"_Fasta vass,_" he cursed under his breath. He'd left his sword beside the table inside… No matter, he'd tear through them all by hand if he had to, he would-

A male voice called out from behind the guards and two of the men shifted to let the speaker pass through.

"Ah, my little Fenris... Predictable as always."

Fenris froze. In disbelief and open shock, he watched Danarius stride forward until his former master stood side by side with...Varania.

She mustered up enough will to look at him straightforwardly then, speaking in a much stronger, resigned voice.

"I'm sorry it came to this Leto."

Fenris tore his gaze from Danarius to snarl at her, "You led him here!"

She flinched as if struck, turning her head to avoid him.

"Now, now, Fenris," Danarius purred. "Don't blame your sister. She did what any good Imperial citizen should."

Fenris raised his chin to glare at Danarius.

"I never wanted these filthy markings, Danarius. But I won't let you kill me to get them!"

Danarius's eyes glittered with a mirthful gleam as he laughed, "Oh, how little you know, my pet. But come now, is this really necessary? You've led me on a merry chase for far too long my wolf...and now it's time for you to heel."

"NEVER!" Fenris spat, leaping backwards toward the house. If he could get to his sword he might have a chance to bottleneck the Tevinter soldiers within a doorway. As Fenris jumped, the guard closest to him lunged forward to slash at his arm and Fenris twisted, thrusting his hand into the man's chest cavity. His lyrium brands flared to life as he phased through flesh before solidifying his fist around the man's heart. Gasping, the man collapsed and Fenris took the fallen man's sword, whirling it around to parry a thrust from another guard.

"I want him alive!" Danarius ordered, taking a step back to let more of his men through. "Subdue him!"

As the men ran in pursuit behind Fenris, Danarius summoned dark shade creatures from the Fade. They writhed as they rose up from the floor in front of his table and Fenris darted toward the upper level of the house. A thick shouldered man was only two steps behind him and Fenris spun to meet that soldier's thrust, deviating the blade away from his body with his stolen sword. He took the momentary opening to plunge his hand into the man's throat, tearing it from the inside out. From below, the monstrous moans of the shades grew louder and Fenris took the steps two at a time before he dashed into the first room on his left. He could go to the window and jump if he had to, anything to get out of this death trap.

He slammed the door and barricaded it with a heavy dilapidated dresser that he knew wouldn't hold for long. There was no time to stack more of the crumbling furniture however, as frozen ice began to form on the ridges of the door frame.

"_Kaffas_!" he swore, retreating to the window on the other side of the room. He shattered the dirty glass with the hilt of the sword, then used the blade in a sweeping motion to break what he could from the sill. He had one leg swung out when he heard the brittle door shatter.

Freezing welts stung along his back and neck from the blasted debris as he fell forward, not caring if he landed poorly, he just had to get out. He managed a tuck and roll, tumbling head over shoulder until he bumped into something solid.

He shot out his hand without checking to see what he was attacking and pulled back when he saw it was just a crate. Blood trickled down his cheek and his ankle throbbed but he got up and sprinted down a side alley, breathing hard.

_Hawke,_ he thought desperately, _have to get to Hawke's house._

Before he had time to realize what was happening, something thick and cold slammed into the base of his skull and Fenris felt himself stagger, his vision blurring. He met the ground, collapsing in a heap. Frantically he tried to get up but his muscles refused to cooperate.

What had hit him? He tried to turn his head but the movement caused a fresh wave of dizziness to sweep over him and the last thing he could remember was hearing the soft laughter of Danarius that followed him down into darkness.


	2. Chapter two: High Town Kidnap

Garrett Hawke opened his eyes at the second round of pounding upon his bedroom door with a small grumble and before he could call out to see what was so urgent, the door swung open with a shove hard enough that the handle crunched against the wall behind it.

Honed battle instincts had him out of the covers and reaching for his staff beside the bed in the blink of an eye before he realized the intruder was Aveline, looking like a very pale and anxious storm cloud.

"Aveline? What is it? What's going on?" Hawke said, finishing his stoop to pick up the staff. Whatever the reason she had for coming at this late hour, in this manner, he thought it likely that he'd need it.

At his inquiry, Aveline paled even further and she spared no time for pleasantries.

"Hawke, something's happened in high town. I've just received the report."

Hawke's heart dropped and he responded immediately. "Fenris?"

Aveline's lips pressed together tightly before she shook her head. "He's no where to be found. The door to his home was smashed in and we found evidence of an attack. There's...blood. Mostly fresh by the looks of it. A few scattered bodies of what appear to be Tevinter guardsmen...with parts of them ripped out…"

"Fenris…" Hawke said again, his voice stricken. That was his token take down for men attacking him who got too close… With Fenris gone and the bodies of Imperium men left behind that could mean only one thing. "Maker preserve us…" Hawke breathed.

_Could Danarius have taken him?_

He turned away from the woman and began hastily throwing off his sleep wear, not caring that she watched. "We have to find out where Fenris went Aveline, take me to the house."

Aveline looked away from him more from despair than modesty as she took an uneasy breath. "There's something else you should know, Hawke."

Hawke didn't slow down at her words nor look back up at her as he shook on his coat. His mind was swirling at the news. Fenris gone, men dead and blood...his blood? Or that of just the guards… A grisly image of Fenris lying broken and dying in some alley flashed through his thoughts and he sped up.

She coughed, about to repeat herself when he looked back at her with only one leg through his pants.

"What, Aveline? What should I know?"

She shifted uncomfortably before replying...delicately of all things, and the woman was _not_ delicate, "Fenris asked for my help to locate his sister and get in contact with her. I was to watch for the ship she named and inform him of when it arrived. But it never did. He asked me not to tell you...said he didn't want to bother you with this but Hawke, I can't help but think now…"

"...That it was a trap," he said flatly.

Aveline's face flushed red with guilt. "He asked me to swear not to involve you, and now he's missing…"

Hawke stuffed his other leg inside his pants and cinched his belt before swinging his staff behind him to rest on his back. "There will be time for regrets later, Aveline. But right now we have to find Fenris. Get the others and meet me at his mansion. Understood?"

She squared her jaw and nodded. "I understand."

He paused to put a hand on her shoulder. He knew she felt responsible and damn it...she should have _told_ him but he needed her head clear. "We'll find him Aveline. All is not lost, not yet."

She straightened and put her own hand on his before she burst into a quick run from his house, moving almost impossibly fast in all her heavy armor. He followed, not quite on her heels but close enough. An overwhelming sense of dread filled him. If it was as he feared, he'd need to rescue Fenris from a magister of the Tevinter Imperium and if he didn't do it soon enough, it would be on Tevinter soil where status granted the mage with even more power. Hawke was no Circle novice himself but the odds where rapidly stacking up against him.

Hawke broke into a sprint and only slowed when he was in front of the ruin that was Fenris's borrowed house.

Aveline's report didn't describe the destruction with justice. The "door" wasn't so much a bare opening as it was a massive portion of wall missing, wider than three men tall.

As the Champion of Kirkwall, Hawke had not needed an explanation as to why he was there or what he was doing and the town's guards let him pass with no questions. They'd retreated to a safe distance outside to talk, but their murmurs reached him.

"Heard an elf lived here."

"This old place? It's not the same as that one a few years ago was it?"

"Believe so…"

"Ought to demolish it now I reckon…"

Hawke tuned them out and moved further in. He could sense that strong magic had been used here. He walked to an overturned table and picked up a ruined half burned book. The works of Shartan, the elf who had helped Andraste free the slaves...Hawke's gift to Fenris.

He held it to his chest for a moment; memories of long nights teaching Fenris various vowels, consonants among other things, washed over him. He'd never expected anything more from those nightly visits and though Fenris had been friendly aloof, Hawke had sensed the underlying latent tension. Several side glances and many a gruff cough from Fenris had been evidence of that.

He didn't have time to reminisce though and he was about to put the book down when he noticed a corner of parchment that stuck out from the middle of the book. Pulling it free, Hawke began to read it.

"Varania…" Hawke folded the letter and pocketed it before kneeling to pick up a box, half hidden under more charred rubbish.

The same flowing hand wrote these other letters and a tight pain wrapped itself around his heart as he read the them for clues. Okay...maybe for more than clues, he admitted. Fenris had deliberately excluded this part of his life from him and it hurt to acknowledge it.

But he wanted to understand more about the situation. More about Fenris. He thought about all the trauma Fenris had endured a thousand times over and he'd told himself he would be patient until Fenris felt safe enough to confide in him. He'd been more than willing to wait for that day. But now he feared Fenris would never get the chance. And the thought absolutely terrified him.

Hawke felt a sudden chill and he looked at the floor above him. More magical residue. He got up, moving to the steps. Parts of the staircase had collapsed and he had to tread carefully going up, avoiding pools of blood as he walked.

The splinters along the first bedroom door frame were damp with condensation. Hawke ran a finger along the edge and felt the chill of mage ice when he heard his name.

"Hawke? You in there?"

Varric's voice called up to him and he left the room, his heart filling with it's own chill. A mage had come for Fenris, that was for certain. A powerful one, based off the lingering residues left behind. A very powerful mage. Hawke saw Varric, his arms tightly folded, at the bottom step and the stout dwarf grunted and moved aside as he descended.

"Hawke, Aveline says a ship sailed from the docks, not more than three hours ago. The captain of that ship paid the port master quite a sum to keep it hushed, but pressure from the guard sure loosened his lips," Varric said smiling. "Well, from the guards and Bianca too, of course." He finished off the sentence, unfolding his arms to hoist and give his beloved crossbow a spin and a gentle loving pat.

Hawke nodded to Varric in acknowledgement before looking at the other of his companions standing in the manor's "doorway" that Aveline had gathered. Aveline herself was there of course, looking grim but determined, along with Merrill, Anders, and Isabella.

Before Hawke could speak, Merrill chimed in with her usual light-hearted voice, though now it was tinged with worry. "Aveline filled us in Hawke, and we found that the ship that left a bit ago was bound for Minrathous."

Isabella crossed her arms and shifted most of her weight to one foot. "That's definitely not good news."

Anders ran a hand through his blonde hair and sighed. "Well there's not much we can do about it now. It's not like we have a ship."

Aveline glared at Anders before looking to Hawke but before anyone else said anything, Hawke turned to Varric.

"I think Danarius took Fenris, using his sister Varania as bait. It's as good a guess as any. It wasn't just any mage that cast spells in here. It was serious magic. Varric, I need you to procure me a ship. I don't care of the cost, just get me a ship."

Hawke looked at the rest of them in turn, making serious eye contact with each. "This rescue is going to be dangerous. If anyone wants to stay here, then stay. But I will not leave Fenris to that fate. I cannot."

Anders released another pent up sigh. "By the time you reach them, they could be in the city of Minrathous and what then? Face down a magister at the bloody _capital_ of the Tevinter Imperium? That's lunacy, Hawke! You could be killed."

Hawke folded his arms across his chest. "I will not abandon Fenris to a fate worse than death. I wouldn't leave any of you to a fate like that."

Anders eyed him skeptically. "If you say so…"

Hawke hardened his voice, "This isn't just about me going after an old lover. He's my friend and I will not abandon him."

Anders looked away but reluctantly he said, "If it's this important to you...to save that maniac," he muttered that last bit under his breath before glancing back at him, "I'll of course help in any way I can..."

"As will I," said Aveline.

"And I," said Merrill, smiling.

Varric gave Hawke a sly grin. "Bianca does love killing slavers. I'll see what kind of craft I can get us. I might need to put up your estate as collateral if need be, that okay with you?"

"Again, whatever the cost Varric," Hawke nodded emphatically.

"Okay then, meet you back at your place Hawke, after I ask around."

Hawke put a hand on Varric's shoulder and squeezed. "Thank you."

Varric gave him a half grin. "Fenris is tough, he'll be alright, Hawke."

Hawke couldn't quite return the dwarf's confident smile but he nodded before looking in the direction of the sea. "Maker please let it be so…" he said out loud but in his mind he said, _I'm coming for you, Fenris. I hope you know that. Maker, I hope you know that and think on it before you do something rash._

He knew Fenris would rather die than be subjected to slavery again.

_Three hours gone..._

Each passing moment was another slow agonizing drip of water into the bucket of time but he had no choice but to wait on Varric. He clenched his fists, wondering how many drips before time would run out.


End file.
